Light is All We Have (An experiment in swimming around meaning - 1998)
By mark_yelland-brown
- 259 reads
Shallow is not a reason
No one can dance in this place
And nothing moves
And there you are
Emerging like art
Rename it before it becomes too tight
And watch all the spaces
But only at night
Snake and the right side writes the best
The brain too organic to machine this trouble
Feed the name and what is real
No doubt the stuff of dreams is pouring and only sad
Beauty is a game for a time
Played out noise changing to glad clamour
Expect hope in the morning
Before light is all you have
Feel disturb it and die to the word
Put into place your own phrases
And consult the name
Dilute the stain from the past as if it was always this
Easy isn’t art
Easy is sleep in the blue garden
I can’t give you sad dreams to make your morning complete
The grave is an ideal to those who can write about
The profound stillness that time creates out of stupidity
Show this to the dark one who calls himself clown
And trust for a season
Merge and slither
Until such waiting contracts and the mirror of shining becomes gloom
The sea is only deep to the shimmer of lighter than air touches
I won’t remove this crime until
Such waiting cause confusion
Run and it will fly at you like something called thunder
Dread is here but not mended
And the gap remains in daytime pleasing
Shake the need to frame all options
Face in compulsions and dry the need to escape the shaken image
Life is not always mood ridden
Sleep and they will blend into themselves like fevers
Shred the dark slums of desire like the skill of the paddle
Shred and shred suddenly is more than the sound
Played like the seemest of future wires left unfolded for all to sleep
Deem only the threat of pleading to their fears
And shake the fallen core to its battle
Stuff then make glad the drugs of options on all lakes of quiet tender
Trust is beauty made of quiet
Lay it sudden but not trembling
Desire is here in the changes bought by rotten concern
Rough edged dull
Love
The death is out in the weaving
Feel feel the tundra crease its concern for the dreamer
And take to its arms the sleeve of matter as if all was understanding
Love
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